Kevin Paronto lost the use of his arms and legs in 1986 at the age of 23 after hitting a tree while sledding. Since then, he has gone skydiving, bungee jumping, hot-air ballooning and downhill skiing. He is an avid photographer, poet and karaoke singer. The following is an edited interview.
I always thought, “I’m never getting up there.” I must have had too many beers that night or something, the first time I did it. My brother put my name in and all of a sudden I was introduced, “Next up, Kevin, singing the The Gambler.” Everyone else really got right into it. I thought, “This isn’t so bad.”
I’m one of these guys who hates public speaking. Throw me up in front of an audience, and I just about pass out. But I found with the singing, I can do it.
When I first started, I didn’t have the breath to really carry a note. Without the diaphragm muscles for control, when you breathe in, your body weight pushes it out again. I kind of work around it and get breaths in real quick so I can keep the note going, but I can’t really belt it out.
I, myself, don’t think I can sing, but everybody else says to keep doing it. And after I started, I found it really helped my breathing.
A few years ago, we set up an appointment at a professional recording studio in Kentucky. The guy who runs it used to work for some high-profile people down in Nashville, and he did a pretty good job making me sound half-decent.
Response to the CD has been great. A friend of mine passed them around and sold a lot of them. One time, I was in a restaurant and all of a sudden somebody said, “Excuse me, are you the one that sings them songs?” She was so excited. “I’ll have to tell my kids that I met you.”
People just see the chair and feel sorry for me. They’ll see I need some physical help and immediately think, “He must have a mental problem or something.” I’m not sure why. We’ll go to a restaurant, and the waiter will ask whoever’s with me, “What will he have?”
Doing this, I want people to see I’ve got a good quality of life. I usually wake up singing. I don’t think I’d be any different if I was out of the chair. I’d be the same guy, just stuck with a different machine all day, working, working, working.
Everybody wants me to cut another record, but I don’t know. People say it’s inspiring. People will come up after a song and say they’re so glad to see me out doing this and not stuck in a corner someplace. Maybe it would be good; I could see how it might help people.
Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be on Oprah.